


The Field Trip

by DJ_unicornsrgr8



Series: Peter & Bucky Are Pals [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce needs sleep, Bucky's Cookies, Field Trip, Flash Doesn't Take Hints, Flash has no sense of self preservation, Fluff, Hair Club, JARVIS is a pal, Pepper is overworked, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Natasha Romanov, Superfamily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-03 14:37:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13343310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DJ_unicornsrgr8/pseuds/DJ_unicornsrgr8
Summary: Peter's class takes a field trip to the tower. Peter thinks that this is a recipe for embarrassment and disaster on all counts. Peter is somewhat correct.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Long Road Begins at Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5339822) by [owlet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlet/pseuds/owlet). 



> This was highly requested- I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> This type of fic has been done before; any similarities beyond the basic plot are unintentional!
> 
> Bucky's characterization is based off of that in Owlet's Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail series. It's not necessary to read in order to understand this, but I recommend it!

“Class, make sure to get your permission slips signed by the end of the week! We’ll be visiting Stark Tower on Monday and I doubt anyone wants to get left behind!”

\----

Honestly, Peter wouldn’t mind being left behind, he thought as he climbed onto the bus. A tour of the tower was a recipe for embarrassment and disaster on all counts. It was also ridiculous for him to walk to school just to be bused back home, but his chemistry teacher wasn’t his biggest fan, so he didn’t bother appealing. He sat in the front of the bus, far from Flash and his little friends. Unfortunately, as the bus started to move, Flash scurried back up the aisle and plopped down in the seat behind Peter.

“Parker!”

Peter ignored him.

“Oi, Parker!”

Joy to the world. Something thumped Peter’s head, and he finally turned.

“What.”

“I’ve been taking bets on whether or not people think you’re lying!”

“Lying about what?”

“The internship, idiot. I think you’re faking it, but five people so far said they believe you. Did you pay them?”

“Why would I pay them?”

Flash rolled his eyes like he was talking to a deceased rock. “For attention.”

“I don’t want attention,” Peter said. “I’d really rather you leave me alone, actually.”

“Not gonna happen, suck it! Hey, d’you think we’ll see Tony Stark himself? I bet you know him well, don’t you? ‘Cause you two are _best friends_.”

Peter rubbed his forehead. “I never said that.”

“Yeah, whatever, Parker. I bet when we get there, nobody’s gonna know you.”

\----

Peter was mildly pleased to see Flash proven wrong within about a minute of being in the tower. They were standing in line to check in when someone called Peter’s name. Peter (and the rest of the class) turned to see one of the secretaries waving to catch his attention.

“Peter, dear! Why are you waiting in line with the schools?”

Peter glanced over to Flash, who was gaping. 

“I’m on a field trip!” he called back. 

“Are you?” The secretary looked faintly amused. “Well, have fun!”

“Thanks, Tina!”

Everyone stepped forward, forming a line for the metal detector, which was really more of a scanner. It said each student’s name flatly as they stepped through, and a guard checked them off on paper. When Peter took his turn, there was no robotic voice.

“Good morning, Mr. Parker. I must say, it’s odd to find you using this entrance,” JARVIS said pleasantly.

“Morning,” Peter replied. “I’m on a field trip.”

“So I gathered. I hope you have a pleasant one.”

“Thanks, JARVIS.”

Flash jabbed Peter in the arm as soon as they started walking. “What the hell was that?”

“JARVIS. Ton- Mr. Stark’s AI.”

“Pay attention!” their teacher rebuked. “The tour’s about to begin!”

Peter listened attentively as a young woman showed them down a hall lined with old prototypes and photos from the infancy of Stark Industries. He’d only been down here once or twice, so he wasn’t bored. Well, yet. They filed into an elevator and ascended to one of the research departments, where a short video was shown. The tour guide explained some new developments in such simple terms that a kid could understand, and Peter remembered that they _were_ kids. He doubted anyone else in his class would understand a fraction of the mechanics and engineering that went in to the designs.

Next, they were taken to one of the smaller labs. As they walked, Peter spotted Clint ambling down the hall, and the man’s face lit up when their eyes met.

“Peter! You didn’t tell me your class was coming in!” Clint strode over and fluffed Peter’s hair fondly. Peter turned pink.

“Hi, Clint.”

“Did you taste the cookies that Barnes made last night?”

Peter shook his head, and Clint started digging in his pockets.

“Oh my god, they were delicious! They had little bits of walnuts and chocolate chips, but the kind of chocolate chips that make your brain melt a little… Here, found it! I saved you one, but I ate half because I figured you wouldn’t mind. You _have_ to convince him to make them again. Please, I beg you. Can I have half of that?”

Peter broke the half-cookie into two pieces and handed one to Clint, who ate it happily. 

“Thanks, Pete! See you later!”

“See you,” Peter replied, both amused and painfully embarrassed. Everyone was staring at him again. He ducked his head and ate his bite of cookie. It was really good. He’d have to remember to compliment Bucky on them.

After the visit to the small lab, the tour guide took them up to one of the major ones, where they all looked through a wide glass window at the proceedings inside. Peter caught a glimpse of Bruce, who was hunched over his laptop, seemingly puzzling over something. He looked up, and his face scrunched in surprise at the sight of Peter with the other kids at the window. His mouth curved into a smile, and he waved. Peter waved back and watched as Bruce pursed his lips, then stood up, making his way to the door and poking his head out.

“Hey, Peter? Can I borrow you for a moment?”

Peter looked to his teacher, who gaped. Bruce ran his fingers through his hair, looking apologetic.

“It won’t be for long. I just need him to look something over.”

“I… sure, of course,” the teacher stammered. Peter wove around his classmates and slipped through the door, following Bruce to his laptop.

“Can you check to see if this formula makes sense? I’m running on coffee and fumes at this point and I don’t know if I’m just seeing what I want to.”

Peter nodded, tilting his head and biting his lip as he studied the complex formula. 

“Everything seems to check out,” he finally said. “You probably shouldn’t take my word for it, though.”

“I’ll send it up to Tony. I just wanted to rule out any glaring errors. I appreciate your help,” said Bruce, smiling.

“I didn’t do much,” Peter replied.

“You saving me from sending Tony anything obviously incorrect, which is about a week’s worth of teasing,” Bruce said. “I’d say that’s a solid favor.”

“Maybe.” Peter watched as Bruce yawned. “You should probably get some sleep.”

“Probably,” Bruce agreed. “I meant to sleep last night, but I got absorbed. Have a good day, alright? I’ll see you later.”

“You too,” Peter said, and headed for the door. 

“That was Dr. Banner!” his teacher squeaked upon his return. Peter shuffled his feet. Luckily, the tour guide shepherded them away from the glass window, and Peter slid to the back of the group. They got into an elevator, and just as the doors were sliding shut, Pepper strode in. She was holding several notebooks, looking somewhat harried. She scanned the group superficially, and did a double-take when she spotted Peter.

“Peter! Why aren’t you in school?”

“I’m on a field trip.”

“Is that today? How’s it going?”

“It’s good,” Peter said somewhat helplessly. 

“Excellent.” Pepper checked her watch and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Everything’s running behind schedule today, what a mess. Dinner’s probably going to be late tonight, alright? I think Clint wanted pizza, so we’ll probably order out.”

The elevator stopped, and Pepper habitually pressed a quick kiss to Peter’s forehead before stepping out.

“Who was that?” Flash whispered, squinting at Peter, who was rubbing at the smudge of lipstick that had probably been left behind.

“Nobody,” Peter muttered.

“Why did she kiss you? What the hell is your deal, Parker?”

“Shut up, Flash. We’re on a tour.” It was the closest Peter had come to snapping in a while.

“You don’t-” Flash cut himself off with a yelp; his ear had just been twisted by a bored-looking MJ. 

“Thanks,” Peter said, and MJ just raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. The elevator doors opened again, and they all followed the tour guide out onto one of the manufacturing floors, where prototypes were generally made. Peter smiled at the sight of Oskar, one of his favorite engineers, digging through a drawer of screwdrivers. The man tended to misplace things; his brain worked in tangents that left huge messes wherever he worked. 

“Hi, Oskar!” he called. Oskar popped up, his face stretching into a sparkling grin.

“Peter! Can you help me find my T6 torx screwdriver? It’s gone missing!”

Peter trotted over, peering into the drawer.

“It’s probably not in here, you must’ve left it somewhere… When did you last have it?”

“I can’t remember!” Oskar groaned. “I used it last week on an upgrade to Colonel Rhodes’s suit, but now that I have to make more modifications, I can’t find it!”

“Did you take it to the bathroom with you? Put it in your pocket? Leave it out on a workbench?”

“Probably the last one,” Oskar admitted. “Hey! Hey everyone! Please tell me if you see a T6 torx screwdriver!”

“This one?” a woman called, waving a screwdriver in the air, and Oskar’s face brightened. 

“Yes! Thank you, Nadia! You’re the best!”

“I thought I was the best!” a man cried from across the room.

“Times change, Neal!”

“Rude!” Neal replied. “Just for that, you’re not getting my leftovers at lunch!”

Oskar gasped dramatically, and Peter laughed.

“I’ve got to go, Oskar. It was good seeing you!”

“Good to see you, my boy! Thank you for your help!”

Peter waved, scurrying back to the group. No sooner as he returned, he saw Tony and Rhodey enter the room and make their way over to Oskar. Everyone in the group gasped or squeaked at the sight of them. Tony gave his paparazzi-smile and waved, his eyes widening when they caught on Peter.

“Kid, you didn’t tell me your class was coming in! Shouldn’t I have signed some sort of form? Permission slip? Is that a thing that they do still?”

“I had Pepper sign it,” Peter said. His cheeks were a deep red; everyone was gaping at them.

“Such betrayal,” said Tony, shaking his head. Someone called for his attention, and he started. “See you later, Peter. Bye, Peter’s class.”

Peter’s classmates looked like they were having heart palpitations. Flash opened his mouth and emitted a raspy wheeze of shock. Peter guessed that he was losing big money at this point. Idiot.

“Alright,” the tour guide said, slightly thrown. She shook herself before continuing. “As you can see, this is where many Stark Industries prototypes are made. We have engineers from around the globe working on them, some of which are tested upstairs, which is where we’re heading next. Now, if you could follow me back to the elevator….”

\----

When lunchtime rolled around, a large group of Peter’s classmates squished in around him, demanding to know why the hell everyone knew him so well. He dodged questions mostly by having his mouth full, but that strategy ran dry when he finished his sandwich.

“Seriously, what the hell is your deal, Parker?” 

Peter stared at the ceiling and mouthed ‘help’ to an unknown entity before leveling his gaze at Flash.

“I’m an intern here. I’ve told you that already.”

“Yeah, but you’re _actually_ friends with Tony Stark. Why did he ask you about your permission slip, anyway? That was just weird. Shouldn’t your little aunt just sign it?”

Peter did a full-body flinch at the mention of May and lifted his eyes back to the ceiling. Flash jabbed Peter’s shoulder.

“I asked you a question!”

Peter stammered for a second. “When… when you work here, you -um- If you’re coming in for other reasons, you have to sign something saying you won’t spill any secrets.”

“Why would you know any secrets?”

Someone cleared their throat, and both Peter and Flash turned quickly. Peter let out an audible sigh of relief at the sight of Natasha.

“You’re Flash,” Natasha said, sounding bored, but Peter could see something dark flickering in the back of her eyes. Evidently Flash saw it too, because he gulped and scooted away from Peter.

“How do you know my name? Wait… are you the _Black Widow_?!”

“I’m one of Peter’s friends. I’ve heard a lot about you.” She stepped closer.

“You- you have?”

“I’ve heard enough to know that I don’t particularly like you. You’re bothering Peter. I don’t like people who bother my friends.”

“I… no, no, I’m not bothering him. We were just hanging out, right Peter?”

Natasha’s face turned cold. “You leave him alone if you know what’s good for you.”

“Are you threatening me?” Flash squeaked, putting on his last front of bravery. Natasha bared her teeth in a smile, and Flash nearly fell off the bench hurrying away. Natasha picked up his abandoned apple and took a bite. She wrinkled her nose and tossed it into a nearby trash can. 

“How’s the tour, Peter?” she said calmly.

“Fine,” Peter replied, his voice somewhat weak. “Thanks for that.”

Natasha shrugged indifferently, but her eyes were warm. “Hair Club after school, do you think?”

“That would be great,” Peter sighed. Natasha gave him a knowing look.

“JARVIS told us that the other kids were being annoying. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have a little Winter Somebody tailing you.”

Peter hid his face in his hands. “He doesn’t have to do that. I’m fine.”

“You know how he gets,” Natasha replied. “None of us want anyone bothering our precious Peter.”

Peter made a faint sound of embarrassment. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Natasha pinched his cheek. “You love us.”

“I never said I didn’t,” Peter mumbled grudgingly. Natasha gave a real smile.

“I’ll see you after school.”

“Bye, Nat. Thanks.”

“Any time.”

\----

Sure enough, Peter noticed a limber figure following the group as they continued the tour after lunch. Bucky was _good_ ; Peter never caught more than a ghost of his presence, yet he was always there. It was comforting, though Peter didn’t want to admit that. He smiled a little every time he caught a flash of metal or sweeping brown hair. It was because of Bucky that he wasn’t nervous when he made his way to the bathroom and Flash followed him.

“Parker! How much did you pay the Black Widow to do that?”

Peter blinked. “I didn’t pay her.”

“Yeah, I forgot. You can’t afford her. How did you do it, then?”

Peter ignored the question, keeping his eyes firmly to himself at the urinal. 

“You’re gonna have to talk eventually, Parker. You’re not telling anyone something.”

“I don’t tell anyone a lot of things,” Peter replied mildly, re-zipping his jeans. When he turned, he saw Bucky standing directly behind Flash. Peter didn’t startle; his ears had picked up on the faint squeak of the bathroom door several moments earlier. Flash clearly hadn’t, because when he zipped his pants and pivoted for the door, he let out a noise that would’ve been a scream if Bucky’s hadn’t clamped a hand over his mouth. His eyes were bugging out of his head, and if he hadn’t just used the bathroom, Peter guessed he would’ve pissed himself. To be fair, Peter might’ve as well if he was in Flash’s place. Bucky looked angry, and an angry Bucky was flat-out terrifying.

“Romanova warned you,” Bucky said. “Told you not to bother Peter.”

Flash choked on his breath.

“You didn’t listen.”

Flash frantically tried to speak, and Bucky removed his hand.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I won’t… I’ll stay away from Peter, I swear. I’ll never talk to him again. Just let me go!”

“Don’t believe you.”

“I…” Flash twisted to look at Peter. “What the hell, Parker? Why the hell are you hiring people to scare me? You’re such a fucking baby!”

Bucky gripped Flash’s shoulder hard enough that he whimpered.

“Peter did not hire me. Peter is a mission-assist and primary sub-target. He is a good person. He deserves more than anyone can offer him. You are a potential threat to his happiness. I will not tolerate that. Do you understand.”

“Yes! I understand, let me go!”

Bucky didn’t let go. “This is your second warning today. I hope you don’t need a third.”

“I won’t! I won’t bother Peter, I swear!”

“Don’t make promises that you don’t intend to keep.”

Flash said something unintelligible. 

“Mind yourself. You don’t want to meet Hill.”

“He met Hill,” Peter said. “She picked me up from school.”

“You don’t want to meet Hill again, then,” Bucky amended. “Wouldn’t go well for you, Eugene.”

Flash turned red, but his fear seemed to outweigh his anger. Bucky released him, and he scurried out of the bathroom.

“He just doesn’t quit, does he,” Bucky grunted.

“He’s complicated,” said Peter. “He’s not really that bad, most of the time. You guys really don’t have to try to stop him. It might just make it worse.”

“I’d like to think we made an impression.”

“Maybe,” Peter said. “He’ll be back at it again by next week, though. Once he realizes that you’re not actually going to do anything.”

“Who said we wouldn’t do anything.”

“He’s just some insecure kid. It’s not a big deal.”

Bucky frowned, but nodded. “Reevaluating tactics.”

“Tactics?” Peter asked, confused.

“You’re a mission sub-target. Mission: protect. Original strategy: intimidation. Reevaluating tactics for effective protection detail.” Bucky shrugged. “Sometimes the first strategy isn’t the best one.”

“You… what?”

When Bucky spoke again, his voice was low and soft. “I want to keep you safe.”

Peter felt something foreignly warm flow through him. He blinked. He felt more wanted than he had in a long time. Bucky placed a hand on his back.

“Go on. You’ve been in here too long.”

“Thanks,” Peter said around a lump in his throat.

“Romanova said we’re having Hair Club after school.”

“Yeah. Clint gave me one of the cookies you made, it was really good.”

Bucky inclined his head, his mouth curling up a little, and gestured to the door. Peter gave him a small smile in return before leaving.

\----

Flash stayed away from Peter for the rest of the field trip, which Peter found quite pleasant. It was odd, being with his classmates and not having Flash breathing up his neck. He started to let his guard down, and by the time they had to leave, Peter found that he’d genuinely had a decent few hours. He talked to MJ a bit, which kept him on his toes in a different way. She was sharp; he made a mental note never to introduce her to Natasha, Hill, or Pepper. The three of them were terrifying enough without another in their ranks.

“Say thank you to Sarah for showing us around, class!” their teacher called as the tour guide left them in the lobby.

“Thank you,” everyone chorused, and the woman smiled. 

“I hope you enjoyed your tour of the tower!”

“It was wonderful, really,” their teacher gushed. “Such a fantastic opportunity.”

Peter tapped the teacher on the shoulder as they headed for the front doors.

“Yes, Parker?”

“Can I just stay here? I -uh- I come here after school anyways for my internship, so it’d probably be more convenient…”

“I can’t just leave you here without a parent. You’ll have to come back to school.”

“Alright,” Peter said. 

“Mr. Hayes!” a girl cried. “I think I left my phone in the bathroom!”

The teacher sighed. “Do you remember which bathroom?”

“Yeah, the one by the testing room.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Rebecca. You can’t go by yourself, and I can’t leave everyone else here.”

“Peter can go get it, can’t he? He works here!”

“He’s under my supervision,” said Mr. Hayes. “He’s staying right here.”

“I can have someone bring it down,” Peter offered. Mr. Hayes gave him a suspicious look, but nodded in agreement. Peter pulled out his own phone and plugged in his headphones.

“Hey, JARVIS?”

“How can I help you, Mr. Parker?”

“This girl left her phone in the bathroom on the seventh floor. Can you have someone bring it down, please?”

“Certainly. Would you also like me to send Mrs. Potts or Mr. Stark down to collect you from your teacher? It would be counterproductive to be bussed back to your school and proceed to walk back to where you came.”

“I… I think they’re probably too busy,” Peter said. “It’s alright.”

“Mr. Stark is currently debating the best kind of mac n cheese with Colonel Rhodes. I would hesitate to classify him as busy.”

“Well… okay,” Peter mumbled. The girl poked him.

“Is someone bringing my phone?”

“Yeah. They’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Thank god. I was totally freaking out.”

Peter kept his eyes on the elevators. Not three minutes later, a man stepped out of the leftmost, a phone in hand. He scanned the lobby before making his way over to the group. The girl -Rebecca- took it from him, thanking him effusively. He shrugged, heading back to the elevators. The doors to the middle one opened, and he stepped in as Tony strode out. Mr. Hayes’s eyes widened as Tony marched over.

“I’ll be keeping Peter,” Tony stated, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I hope you enjoyed your visit.”

“I… Alright,” Mr. Hayes said weakly. “Yes, it was really-”

Before the man could finish, Tony was cutting him a paparazzi smile and steering Peter to the elevators.

“I don’t like that guy,” Tony said. “He was a dick during that conference Steve and I went to.”

Peter put on his best surprised-face. “Really?”

“Yeah, he insinuated some rude shit.”

“He does that.”

“Well, I don’t like it,” said Tony. “Got plans for the evening?”

Peter nodded. “Hair Club.”

“Why am I not surprised that they roped you into Hair Club? Well, if you get bored, come hang around with me n’ Rhodey. We’ll be in the workshop. We’re so much cooler.”

Peter laughed. “Thanks, Tony. Maybe I’ll stop by.”

\----

Hair Club was the best. They met in Bucky and Steve’s living room this time; Steve had been exiled to the shared floor. Peter’s head was resting in Pepper’s lap, and she was carding her fingers through his hair with one hand while clicking through emails with the other. She had insisted on coming despite being overloaded with work, so she was multitasking. Natasha was sitting behind them, curling Pepper’s hair. Bucky was practicing Dutch braids on Hill, who hadn’t winced once despite Bucky accidentally pulling a little too hard with his metal hand now and then.

“New mission protocol,” Bucky announced after a period of silence. “Strategy: display care. Maintain a strong presence around threats.”

“Yeah? That sounds like a good plan, Barnes,” said Natasha. Bucky nodded.

“Do I want to know what you mean?” Peter asked.

“It just means that we make sure that Flash knows we’re your friends,” Natasha told him. He furrowed his brow.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Our presence will remind him of the warnings he received. He will be more likely to think of consequences before engaging,” said Bucky.

“It’s a neutral approach,” Pepper said, managing to type surprisingly fast with just one hand. “I like it.”

“I do too,” Hill agreed. “We’ll have to make a schedule.”

“Good idea. We should include alternates in case of unforeseen exigencies,” said Bucky.

“Exigencies,” Hill echoed. “Strong word.”

Bucky’s mouth curved up. 

“Should the schedule be regular?” Pepper asked. “Because our personal agendas vary every week, so that might be difficult.”

“We’ll start by availability,” Natasha replied. “We’ll see.”

“What are you guys talking about?” asked Peter, completely lost. “Schedules?”

“Who walks you there and picks you up,” Pepper said somewhat absently, scanning a new email.

“From _school_?” Peter looked horrified. “I don’t need a babysitter!”

“You’re missing the point,” Bucky said, and proceeded to offer no explanation. Peter groaned.

“I think we’re pretty cool,” said Hill. “It’s not like we’d be cramping your style.”

“Well, no, but… everyone’s going to ask questions!”

“Say that we’re friends from work,” Natasha said. “And that we like to laugh at teenagers.”

Peter tried to be put off, but Pepper started massaging the back of his neck and he melted.

“Fine. But only because I know I can’t stop you guys.”

“We are apex predators,” Hill said, grinning. “Beware, youngling.”

“Squirt,” Natasha provided.

“Urchin,” said Pepper.

“Teenybopper,” supplied Bucky. “Wee childer.”

Everyone burst into laughter. Pepper threw her head back, Natasha cackled loudly, and Hill wheezed. Peter’s face was red. Bucky maintained a completely serious expression for longer than was humanly possible before giving them a smirk.

“Where did you come up with those?” Hill gasped. “Oh my god. Wee childer.”

Pepper managed to compose herself, returning to her emails, though her eyes were mirthful.

“You’re lucky Tony isn’t here.”

“Please nobody tell him!” Peter said quickly. “I don’t want him to call me a teenybopper!”

“It’s a perfectly good word,” Bucky replied, and Peter glared at him halfheartedly.

“Don’t do it.”

Bucky reached over and patted Peter’s knee.

“You’re safe. For now.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Protective!Avengers in action. Go Pepper go!

Peter was only mildly surprised to find Hill waiting for him in the kitchen the next morning, a warm bowl of oatmeal on the table. He’d had a sinking suspicion that they were being serious about accompanying him to and from school; he was proved correct. He sat down, shoveling oatmeal into his mouth with a muffled “fanks!” before nearly spitting it back out, having forgotten to check if it was cool enough to eat. His tongue felt like it’d been boiled, and his eyes watered copiously. Hill patted his head, trying to hide her amusement.

“Ow,” Peter mumbled, sucking air in through his mouth in attempt to cool his tongue.

“Good morning,” Hill said pleasantly, and Peter groaned.

“I’m thuffering.”

“Thorry,” Hill replied, her eyes twinkling. Peter pouted at her, stirring his oatmeal slowly.

“Where’s yours?” he asked after scooping another spoonful and blowing on it.

“I already ate mine,” said Hill. Peter stared.

“How?”

Hill shrugged. “Magic.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, and she laughed.

“I put mine in the freezer to cool it down.”

“I feel so betrayed.”

Hill patted his shoulder. “Eat. We leave in ten.”

Peter blew on his spoonful of oatmeal again, looked at it suspiciously, then ate it, relieved to find it agreeably warm.

“Work around the edges,” Hill told him. “They cool the fastest.”

“Huh. Smart,” Peter said. He scraped spoonfuls from the perimeter of his bowl, gulping them down quickly and succeeding in not burning his tongue again. He finished exactly ten minutes later, and placed his bowl in the sink before trotting after Hill to the elevator. 

The air was brisk as they stepped out of the lobby; Pete shoved his hands in his pockets. Hill was wearing a light jacket, presumably having checked the weather before leaving. Peter should be more like her, he thought. 

“What’s your first class?” she asked.

“Today’s Tuesday… Math.”

Hill nodded. “What are you guys working on?”

“Just logarithms and stuff. It’s really easy as long as you know the properties.”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s alright,” Peter said, shrugging. “Sort of boring.”

“Because it’s too easy?” asked Hill.

“Yeah,” Peter replied, slightly hesitant. “I mean… I think I could’ve taken Calculus this year, but I’d have to test out of Precalc and I was sort of too lazy to do that. Or, well, I just didn’t really want to. I would’ve had to talk to the head of the department, and she’s scary. I don’t think she likes me.”

Hill narrowed her eyes.

“Oh god, now you have that avenging look on your face, which I guess is appropriate given your occupation, but please don’t talk to the department head! It’s fine. I’ll take Calculus next year.”

Hill continued to look offended on Peter’s behalf.

“Really, it’s fine,” said Peter, almost begging, and Hill relented.

“Fine” she said. “But if she gives you trouble…”

“I know. Tell you. I promise, it’s fine.”

Hill looked only slightly appeased, but soon resettled her expression into a warmer one. “Who’s your favorite teacher?”

“My history teacher is really nice,” Peter said after considering. “History isn’t my favorite, but he’s cool guy. My English teacher is pretty considerate, too.”

“That’s good. It’s really too bad that your chemistry teacher isn’t great. I know you love science.”

Peter nodded. “Next year, when I take physics, I should get a better one.”

“I hope so,” said Hill. She stopped them, looked both ways, then tugged Peter across the street to the concrete steps in front of his school. “Here you are. Walking with me wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No,” Peter said grudgingly. Hill pulled him in for a quick hug, and he flailed.

“I take that back! This is terrible.”

Hill ruffled his hair fondly. “Have a good day.”

Peter grumbled, fixing his hair and straightening his shirt. He noticed a few kids watching them and resisted the urge to hide behind his hands.

“Thanks for walking with me. It was nice,” he admitted, looking at his feet. Hill grinned. 

“I expect you’ll see Steve later.”

“Steve!” Peter squeaked. “Oh my god! I thought this was just a Hair Club thing! Everyone’s gonna stare at me!”

“You’ll live,” Hill said, and left before he could protest further. He resigned himself to climbing the steps and entering the school, dodging a bouncy ball that some kids were hurling around as he made his way to math. He managed to avoid Flash by ducking into an empty classroom for a minute; he wasn’t sure if he’d be so lucky later.

\----

He wasn’t so lucky. He was just passing the gym after the last bell rang when Flash and his gang caught up to him.

“Hey Penis!”

Peter pressed his lips together, pushing through the throngs of kids and heading for the front door. Flash followed. The crowds thinned as they got outside, yet Peter found himself sandwiched between Flash and some kid that was maybe called Joe. 

“What was with the lady walking you to school today? Did you pay her, too?”

“She’s my friend,” Peter gritted out. Flash laughed.

“No way. Did you give her ten? Twenty?”

“Peter!” someone called, and Peter wanted to disappear at the sight of Captain Goddamn America waving his hands frantically to catch Peter’s attention. Flash froze, and Peter wiggled out from between him and Joe. Peter hurried over, giving Steve the universal throat-slashing gesture of ‘cut it out,’ but the damage was done. Everyone, literally _everyone_ was staring. Steve seemed to be either oblivious or ignoring it, because he grinned widely and tossed an arm over Peter’s shoulders.

“How was school, buddy?”

“Fine,” Peter whispered, mortified. He let Steve steer him out of the crowd and across the street, where few people attempted to follow them.

“Is everything okay?” Steve asked, concerned after glancing down at Peter, who ceded to the urge to hide and buried his face in his hands.

“Oh my god,” he whimpered. “Nobody will leave me alone again.”

Steve frowned, his brain clicking, and then pulled a face like a distraught puppy. “I didn’t even think about that, I’m sorry, Peter. I can go tell them-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Peter said hurriedly. “I’ll deal with it. I’ll just ignore them.”

“I forgot about the unwanted attention. Gosh, I’m dense.”

“No you’re not,” said Peter, and Steve raised an eyebrow at him. “Maybe just a little bit? In certain situations?”

Steve laughed. “Subtlety’s never been my strong suit.”

“No,” Peter agreed. As they slipped into light conversation, Peter found that Steve’s arm was still draped over his shoulders. It was nice, he decided. It made him feel like he belonged somewhere. Like he had friends. 

\----

The next morning, Peter was slightly more surprised to find Bruce sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee and reading a paper beside a wide variety of cereals. He looked up when Peter entered and smiled wryly.

“I’m not much of cook compared to some of the others. I hope you don’t mind cereal,” he said. 

“Oh, cereal’s great, it’s fine,” Peter replied quickly. “I usually just eat Froot Loops for breakfast.”

Bruce looked faintly relieved. He yawned and took another gulp of coffee. “You really get up this early every day?”

“I’m used to it,” Peter answered, pouring some cereal into a bowl. 

Bruce nodded. He looked like he hadn’t slept much at all.

“You really didn’t have to get up just to walk me to school. I’m fine on my own,” said Peter, feeling slightly guilty. 

“Natasha said it would be good for me, going outside, getting some exercise. I figured I’d listen to her. I wouldn’t have slept much longer anyway,” Bruce told him. “Coffee’s my best friend.”

“Same,” Peter said. “Is there any extra?”

Bruce nodded to the half-full coffee pot on the counter. “Go for it.”

Peter smiled in thanks, getting up and pulling a mug from the cabinet above the sink, filling it three-quarters full with coffee. He opened the fridge and grabbed the milk, pouring some in his coffee and some in his cereal. He plopped down again in the seat next to  
Bruce, taking a swig of coffee and a large mouthful of cereal.

“Mmm.”

“I’d suggest you eat quickly, Mr. Parker. You are due to leave for school in five minutes,” said JARVIS, and Peter picked up the pace. 

Bruce looked vaguely perturbed, as if he was worried that Peter might choke. 

“Maybe slow down a little bit?”

“Th’fine,” Peter replied around his Froot Loops. “Thith ith normal.”

Bruce nodded slowly and went back to reading, sipping at his coffee. Peter finished his cereal in record time and dumped his bowl in  
the sink, shoving his feet in his shoes and scooping up his backpack. Bruce tailed him into the elevator, his expression thoughtful.

“What’s up?” Peter asked, tilting his head as they descended.

“I just can’t remember the last time I went outside. Not counting emergencies, I mean. Natasha was right, I really don’t get out much.”

“How come?”

Bruce shrugged. “Too busy. And no real reason to leave the lab, I suppose. It’s nice, doing something different.”

“Do you like being outside?” asked Peter, curious, as they stepped out of the elevator and made their way out of the lobby. Bruce took in a deep breath of morning city air, looking pensive.

“I think so. Do you?”

“Yeah, I like exploring. Patrol is fun ‘cause it’s exhilarating, but sometimes I just like to walk.”

“That sounds nice,” Bruce said, looking around and taking in the cars whizzing by and the waxing and waning crowds on the sidewalks. 

He let out a short laugh. “I forget that all this exists, sometimes.”

Peter nodded. “I can see that happening.”

They were silent for a couple minutes, and then Bruce spoke.

“Do you like school?”

Peter made a face. “I guess… sort of. I like to learn, but the people suck.”

“I had a similar mindset at your age. Well, I still do,” Bruce amended. “But people suck less as you get older, generally.”

“Sounds nice,” Peter sighed. “I love science, but my chemistry teacher doesn’t like me. He’s annoying.”

“Why wouldn’t he like you?” Bruce asked, frowning.

“I don’t pay attention sometimes. The class is really easy.”

“Is it? What are you working on?”

“Right now? Stoichiometry and percent yield. It’s just plugging in numbers. Boring.”

“Sounds like it. You should stop by the lab more often. We’re doing a biochemistry project that you might find interesting.”

Peter brightened. “Really?”

“Of course. We’re working on synthesizing cells. Pretty neat,” Bruce said, rubbing the back of his neck modestly. 

“Cool! Maybe I’ll come by later.”

They crossed the street, approaching Peter’s school. They’d walked quickly; kids were still hanging out in groups outside the doors, the bell not having rung yet.

“Hey Penis! Who’s your friend?” Flash shouted, and Peter sighed. Bruce looked at him, his brow furrowing deeply, then dropping low.

“Did that kid just call you _Penis_?” he asked.

“Yeah. It’s fine. You should probably go.”

“Peeeenis! I asked you a question!” 

Peter firmly ignored him in lieu of trying to wave Bruce away.

“Parker! How many dicks did you suck to get the fancy bodyguards?”

Bruce’s eyes flashed a dangerous green, and Peter quickly dragged him across the road.

“It’s fine, Bruce. It’s fine,” Peter repeated, keeping his voice low and steady, because Bruce looked furious.

“That’s not fine,” Bruce said shortly, his fists balling and slackening. 

“It’s normal. It’s doesn’t bother me, I swear.”

Bruce clearly didn’t believe him; his eyes had lost their radioactive color and were now simply dark with anger, though his control  
seemed intact, thank god.

“They really just say things like that? Is this normal?” 

“It’s fine, I swear. It doesn’t really bother me.”

“Bullshit. The kid just fu- just flipping asked if you…” Bruce shook his head sharply. “Don’t tell me that doesn’t bother you.”

“Maybe a little, but it’s really not a big deal,” Peter said, attempting earnest.

“Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t walk across the road straight into the principal’s office and report the kid.”

Peter’s face fell. “Bruce, you can’t. Please. It would just make it worse.”

Bruce closed his eyes, then sighed, crumbling slightly.

“Fine. Just… What’s the kid’s name?”

“Flash,” Peter said, and Bruce gave him a look.

“His full name.”

“Eugene Thompson,” Peter relented. He picked up on the faint sound of the bell, and glanced across the street to see the crowds thinning as everyone headed into the school. Bruce followed his gaze.

“That’s your cue, I suppose.”

Peter nodded. “Thanks for walking with me. It was fun.”

Bruce’s cheeks pinkened slightly, like he wasn’t used to people enjoying his presence. That should be fixed, Peter thought briefly to himself.

“Have a good day. I think Pepper’s picking you up,” said Bruce.

“You too,” Peter said, smiling, and darted across the street. When he glanced back as he pulled the door open, Bruce was still standing there, watching.

\----

Flash caught up to him after school, as usual. Peter didn’t bother trying to escape this time.

“Who was the bodyguard this morning, Parker? He didn’t look as tough as the others. Big downgrade from Captain America, huh? Did you run out of money, or did your jaw get sore?”

“Piss off, Flash,” Peter sighed, gripping the straps of his backpack.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Penis. I was just asking, no need to get unfriendly.”

Peter didn’t reply, exhaling as he pushed his way through the door into the sunlight. Flash dogged him, giving him a jab in the ribs.

“No Captain America today? How are you gonna get attention now?”

“I don’t want attention.”

Flash laughed. “Yeah, right. Why else would you hire him to pick you up from school?”

“I didn’t hire him,” Peter said, his voice strained. He let out a breath of relief when he caught sight of Pepper waiting on the sidewalk. He strode forward to meet her, fast enough to leave Flash a few steps behind him. She smiled fondly at the sight of him and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“How was school?”

Peter shrugged, internally glowing with warmth like he always did when Pepper treated him like her son.

“It was alright,” he replied. He could feel Flash’s eyes on the back of his neck. Pepper nodded.

“I was thinking we could stop and get some cheese on the way home? There’s a new farmers’ market that I want to check out, and we can never get enough cheese, or so says Barnes.”

“Sounds good to me,” Peter replied, following Pepper away from the throngs of teenagers down the sidewalk. No snarky comments followed him; he guessed that Flash still didn’t know what to make of Pepper.

“Peter,” said Pepper once they were a block away, and Peter’s heart sank. She sounded serious.

“Yeah?” he replied nervously.

“Bruce told me something that I didn’t like to hear this morning.”

“Did he?” Peter squeaked, trying to feign surprise.

“Please don’t play dumb with me. It’s not okay for your peers to suggest that you’re performing sexual favors in exchange for us to be around you. It is _not_ okay. Ah, don’t argue. I’m not done. It’s highly inappropriate, and it can’t be good for you, no matter how much you insist it’s fine. I won’t tolerate behavior like that, even if you will. I can’t hear about this and not do something about it, so you have a choice. Either we go in early and talk to the principal tomorrow morning, or I let Tony or Steve do something about it.”

Peter shook his head, looking unusually pale. “I really don’t like either of those options.”

“We could homeschool you, then. Transfer you, maybe.”

Peter rubbed his forehead, where a sharp ache was developing. “Pepper…”

“I’m sorry, Peter. I can’t stand by while you’re harassed.”

Peter let out an unsteady breath, and Pepper stopped walking and pulled him into a tight hug. He dropped his head onto her shoulder, breathing in the faint scent of perfume and laundry detergent. He could feel people pushing past them, making sounds of annoyance for stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Pepper was probably giving them all glares of death, anyway. After a long minute, Pepper stepped back, her hands on his shoulders.

“It’ll be alright,” she told him, and he wanted more than anything to believe her.

\----

He didn’t expect Bucky and Bruce to be waiting for him when he stepped off the elevator towards his room, but there they were; their expressions were an almost comical contrast. Bucky looked livid, and Bruce apologetic. When Bucky strode forward, Peter was almost afraid, except he was being tightly wrapped in Bucky’s arms and pulled against his chest.

“How fucking _dare_ he insinuate… I’m gonna fucking-” Bucky cut himself off, clearly still seething. Peter tilted his head to glance at Bruce, who lifted his hands.

“I didn’t tell him,” he said. “He bugged your backpack.”

Peter wiggled a bit, looking up at Bucky.

“You bugged my backpack?”

Bucky was still wearing a fierce expression. “Mission is protect. You know that.”

“I guess so… Did you _just_ bug my backpack, or…?”

“Your jacket, too,” Bucky said, not looking guilty in the least.

“Which jacket?” Peter asked.

“All of them,” Bucky replied, as if it was obvious, and released Peter reluctantly.

“Sorry about-” Bruce waved his hand, “all this. In my defense, I said I wouldn’t tell your principal, but I didn’t promise anything about not telling anyone else, and I thought that Pepper should know as one of your legal guardians…”

“It’s fine,” Peter sighed. “She would’ve found out anyway, since _someone_ bugged my backpack.”

“And your jackets,” Bucky said.

“And my jackets.” 

\----

Pepper and Peter set off early the next morning, making it to school fifteen minutes before the bell. Pepper’s hand rested firmly on Peter’s shoulder as they stepped into the waiting room outside the principal’s office. The secretary looked up at them.

“Can I help you?”

“I’d like to address some concerns. Is the principal available?”

“He is,” said the secretary, getting up and pushing the office door open. She said something and withdrew, waving Peter and Pepper towards the door. They stepped inside and took a seat across from the principal’s desk.

“What can I do for you?” the principal asked.

“Peter is being harassed by another student, and I’d like to put an end to it.”

“How long has this been going on? I’ve never gotten any reports of it.”

Pepper turned to Peter and nudged his arm. He shrugged.

“Years. Since middle school.”

“Why haven’t you reported anything, Mr. Parker?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was hoping they’d stop if I didn’t do anything about it.”

“I see. I assume that hasn’t worked out for you?”

“No.” Peter hesitated. “It’s gotten worse.”

“Did anything happen to cause that?”

“Sort of. I mean… Ever since the field trip to Stark Tower, they’ve been bothering me more.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, I… I live there, and people know me, and I think people were just curious at first, but then they started… implying things.”

“Like what?” the principal prompted. Peter bit his lip and looked to Pepper, his eyes pleading.

“People have suggested that Peter performs sexual favors for and pays the residents of the tower to be around him. I find that absolutely unacceptable,” said Pepper. “You understand.”

“Certainly, I…” the principal trailed off, slightly shocked. “That’s not acceptable at all. Which student said that?”

“Eugene Thompson,” Pepper replied, and the principal winced.

“I was afraid of that. I’m completely on your side, but the Thompsons have a considerable amount of money and good lawyers. It’ll be hard to do anything without evidence.”

“We have evidence.” Pepper held up a flashdrive*, which the principal took, frowning slightly. 

“Are they videos? It’s against school policy to film other students without their consent…”

Pepper shook her head. “Our family takes security very seriously. Peter’s backpack has listening equipment installed in it to ensure his safety. Since New York has a one-party consent wiretapping law, the audio recordings were obtained legally, though Mr. Thompson’s lawyers are welcome to debate with ours.”

“I see,” the principal said weakly. “Well, hopefully it doesn’t come to legal action. Why don’t I call Mr. Thompson into the office?”

“That would be lovely,” said Pepper. The principal got up and slipped out of the office, and a few moments later, the loudspeaker crackled.

“Could Eugene Thompson please make his way to the main office? Eugene Thompson to the main office.”

It was less than three minutes before something twitched in the back of Peter’s head and Flash followed the principal into the office.

“Please sit, Mr. Thompson.”

Flash sat, looking like he was tasting something rotten.

“I’ve just been informed that you’ve been saying that Mr. Parker performs sexual favors in exchange for certain people to spend time with him. That’s completely unacceptable behavior, and I won’t tolerate it in this school. This is your only warning. Please stop making such implications, or you will face the consequences of your actions.”

Flash curled his lip. “Parker’s lying. You don’t have any proof.”

Pepper’s face lit up. “I think you’ll find yourself wrong, Eugene.”

For the first time, Flash looked slightly nervous. He watched the principal plug the flashdrive into his computer, then click on the first file.

_“Parker! How much did you pay the Black Widow to do that?”_

_“I didn’t pay her.”_

_“Yeah, I forgot. You can’t afford her. How did you do it, then?”_

The principal clicked the second one.

_”What was with the lady walking you to school today? Did you pay her, too?”_

The third.

_”You must really want attention, Parker. Either that, or you’re really gay.”_

The fourth. 

_“Parker! How many dicks did you suck to get the fancy bodyguards?”_

The fifth.

_”Whose dick do you even suck, anyway? Their managers? Or do you suck dick for money and use the money to pay them?”_

The sixth.

_”Who was the bodyguard this morning, Parker? He didn’t look as tough as the others. Big downgrade from Captain America, huh? Did you run out of money, or did your jaw get sore?”_

Either that was the last one, or the principal had had enough, because he looked up at Flash and lifted an eyebrow. Flash shrank a little.

“We’re not afraid to take legal action,” Pepper said. “I’m sure your lawyers are nice, but so are ours.”

For once, Flash didn’t seem to have a response.

“You understand, then? This stops now,” the principal said. Flash nodded like it pained him. He didn’t look at Peter. “Off you go, then.”

Flash jumped to his feet and scurried away, pulling out his phone as he went, presumably to call his dad.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” the principal asked.

“Yes, actually. I was wondering if it would be possible to switch Peter into a different chemistry class? He shares it with Mr. Thompson, and I think it’d really be best if they stayed separate.”

“I can definitely do that. Are there any other classes you have together?”

“Gym,” Peter said. “But it’s really not a big deal.”

“It’s an easy fix,” the principal told him. “You’d just have a different study hall.”

“Alright,” said Peter. “That would sort of be good.”

The principal clicked away at his computer, muttering to himself. The keyboard clattered as he typed.

“Okay… you should be all set,” he finally said, looking up again. “I’ll have Donna print you a schedule, does that sound good?”

Peter nodded. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Please don’t hesitate to tell me if there’s anything else I can do, or if there’s any further incidents.”

“Thank you very much, sir,” Pepper said, shooting the principal a winning smile. “I really appreciate your time and care.”

“It’s no problem,” said the principal, slightly pink-cheeked. “Have a nice day, ma’am.”

Pepper stood up and marched out, Peter on her tail. Once in the hall, she turned and pressed a kiss to his head.

“You have a good day, alright? I believe Barnes and Nat are planning on collecting you later.”

“Both of them?” Peter said weakly. Pepper laughed.

“The other kids won’t know what hit them. I’ll see you after school, Peter.”

“See you after school.”

Pepper smiled, squeezed his shoulder, then strode off towards the front doors, her heels clacking in the tile floor.

“Mr. Parker!”

Peter turned to find the secretary waving a paper at him.

“Here’s your new schedule.”

“Thanks,” said Peter, taking the sheet of paper. The secretary glanced around before speaking again.

“Your mom’s quite something,” she said under her breath. “I’ve been waiting a year to see that Thompson kid’s ass handed to him. He’s a pain in mine.”

Peter’s eyes widened, and he let out an involuntary sound that was almost a giggle. “She’s pretty cool.”

“Damn right,” the secretary muttered before straightening up and arranging her face to look the usual bored and slightly annoyed. “Get to class, Parker.”

Peter was fairly sure that he was dreaming as he made his way down the hall towards his English class. Had that really just happened? 

Maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe Loki had vanished him into an alternate universe. He pinched himself and winced slightly. He was definitely awake, though that didn’t answer the latter questions. The bell rang, and he jumped, picking up the pace. He didn’t want to get a tardy. 

When he skidded into his English classroom, the teacher was nowhere to be seen. He sat down, looking around slowly in case he’d missed something. A minute later, a substitute teacher walked into the classroom, and the kids let out a collective cheer. Peter couldn’t believe it. For once, life seemed to be going his way.

(*FLASHdrive hahahaha get it?)

\----

At the end of the day, Peter headed for the front doors, bracing himself for Flash to tail him. To his shock, he made it outside without a single “Penis!”. He turned around and found Flash positively glowering, but keeping his distance. Suddenly, Flash went pale, and Peter felt a metal arm being tossed over his shoulders. He smiled up at Bucky and Natasha.

“Hey, guys.”

“Hey,” Natasha said, her eyes firmly on Flash. Bucky twisted his face into a shark-like grin at the boy, and Natasha waved. Flash spun around and ran; Bucky made a content sound.

“How was your day,” he said, looking down at Peter.

“It was fine. Actually, pretty good.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Natasha. “Barnes made you cookies, but I have a strong suspicion that Clint’s eaten most of them by now.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “He better not have.”

“I think your expectations of him are too high,” Natasha said. Bucky grumbled, looking displeased.

“He is off the mission-assist list.”

“Ooh, that’s harsh,” said Natasha, her lips twitching. Bucky shrugged.

“Consequences.”

Peter snickered. Today was turning out to be a good day indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments are appreciated; feel free to leave suggestions!
> 
> Next up in the series, what happened to Aunt May!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Peter and the (other) Field Trip](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14506260) by [Aprilmallick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aprilmallick/pseuds/Aprilmallick)




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